Page 62 of Starrily

Snuggled in his embrace, she pushed further in, as if she could somehow make their bodies meld together. Blankets slipped off and pooled around them. Simon used one hand as support as he leaned back and, with the other still securing her back, guided her down until she lay on top of him.

“I don’t think there’ll be a bed problem tonight,” he said.

She giggled, then hid her face in the crook of his neck, feeling a blush coming on.

“Don’t hide.” He lifted her chin with his fingers. “You’re so pretty when you smile.”

“You’re talking too much.” She shut him up with another kiss. His chest shook from laughter, vibrating beneath her, and she revered in the feeling of touching him, holding him—

She slipped, and her right elbow hit the ground, making her wince as numbness spread from her funny bone. She looked at her arm, unsure of how she’d managed to slip off Simon—and screamed.

Simon’s entire left arm was gone.

She lifted to a sitting position. Simon stared at her, confused. “Callie?” he said, clear worry in his voice—but not for himself. For her.

She gasped and covered her mouth with a trembling hand as she pointed at his missing arm. It was hard to discern in the low light, but the arm was fine at the shoulder, and then it … faded.

“What’s wrong? Callie, what’s wrong?”

“Your arm. Your arm isn’t there.” She clenched her hand into a fist and bit on it. “Don’t you see it? Your left arm is—are you okay? How are you not feeling it? Where did it go?”

Simon looked down. “What do you mean? It’s right here.”

“It’s gone!”

“Callie, my arm is—” He bent toward her with the left side of his body, and she felt something cold pass through her shoulder. Simon stopped and paled. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” She bolted upright. “Simon? Talk to me.”

He stared at where his arm should be and passed his hand through the empty space. “Oh, no. No.”

“Simon!” Just as she screamed, the arm reappeared.

Simon got up, carefully stretching the fingers of his previously-missing, newly-acquired hand. “All right, calm down.” She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or himself—but he wasn’t as nearly as shocked as he should be.

“What’s going on?” she asked again. Surely, there was a plausible explanation. It was dark; maybe it was an optical illusion.

“Okay.” Simon looked at her, reaching out with his hands as if trying to reassure a frightened puppy. “This is going to soundbizarre …” His eyes met hers, and for the time first ever, she’d seen him afraid. “But I think I’m turning into a ghost.”

Chapter 15

Turning immaterial had really put a damper on the evening.

On the whole of Simon’s life. His wishful thinking hadn’t worked—hell; the fading was getting worse.His entire arm.And now Callie had seen it, too, and he wasn’t sure if the constricting feeling in his chest came from the anxiety about his condition or from the shock of her witnessing it.

Maybe both.

“What do you mean, you’re turning into a ghost?” She threw her hands in the air. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

Simon rubbed his left arm but felt no relief at the touch. He couldn’t deny it—a minute ago, it had been gone. Well, he saw it, but he could also pass through it. And he could pass it through Callie.

He shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.” What if she didn’t believe him? What if she thought he was crazy?

“No, it doesn’t! Being a ghost makes zero sense!”

“I didn’t say I was a ghost yet—”

“This is not the time to argue semantics.”